Back To Basics
by Snow'sLuckyCat
Summary: Kyle Montgomery didn't come to maim John Nolan for the death of his brother. He came to to kill John Nolan. So, can John successfully talk his way out of this one? Or will Lucy also get caught in the middle of this unscrupulous attack?
1. Deescalation

**Title:** _Back To Basics_ (1/3)

 **This Part's Title:** _Deescalation_

 **Author:** Snow'sLuckyCat aka Sharma aka ME

 **Fandom:** The Rookie (TV)

 **Genres:** Hurt/Comfort. Whump, ahoy! Also? Angst and Drama. So, buckle up, guys and dolls! You all are in for a _bumpy_ ride...

 **Characters:** Just John Nolan, Lucy Chen, and Kyle Montgomery, for now. Alongside some minor OCs. With the additions of Sergeant Grey and Captain Anderson and Talia Bishop, coming a bit later on.

 **Spoilers:** 1x08, "Time of Death." ...And HOW?! Plus, a couple of minor ones for some of the earlier episodes.

 **Summary:** We _all_ know that John Nolan can _**talk**_. But, he might have finally met his match. Can he successfully talk the surviving Montgomery brother out of enacting his revenge? And will John even be given the chance to explain himself in the first place? Or will Kyle's firearm aim remain true and his conscience remain blinded by the righteous hatred currently fueling him?

 _ **Disclaimer:**_ _I don't own The Rookie. Nor do I make any money off of this endeavor. So, please don't sue me. I simply love the characters therein and wanted to play around with them for a bit. The OCs, however, that you don't already recognize from the show are indeed mine (for example: Patrick). ABC Studios, Alexi Hawley, Nathan Fillion, etc. are the ones who really own a RL piece of this._

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 **Part One:**

 **Deescalation**

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Alex's brother is standing over me, gun cocked and ready. He's already broken into my house and hit me over the head with my own fuckin' baseball bat. Even as I'm now staring my own death down the sights of a revolver, my mind turns to the woman tucked away in my bathroom. Unarmed and sans clothing. Either still in the shower or fresh from it.

Lucy Chen had been a godsend to me. She had helped me through the roughest time in my life. _Twice._ And she'd bared that burden with little complaint. Only care and compassion and a rather great sense of humor, the time of our mutual breakup early last month notwithstanding.

With my death, however, would she be next? Or would this irate, inconsolable former brother and current only child take pity on her? After all, his quarrel was with me alone. Or would he treat Lucy as if she were just as guilty, simply because of her association with me?

This potential threat to her life quickly supersedes any thought of my own. I know I must act. _Now._

Forcing my aching body to surge upwards and forwards surprises him. At least initially. But, he is still able to pull the trigger, although it's in a wild manner.

Red-hot pain splashes up from my right hip as the first bullet grazes my side before burying itself in the wall behind me. I refuse to be stunned however, refuse to alter my direction. Undeterred. Determined.

The second bullet strafes my left temple. Just barely. Another mere flesh wound. He will not get to shoot again, for, in the next instant, I am upon him, using my greater size and weight to topple him down onto the marbled floor. In fact, we almost go through the plate glass window he'd previously been standing in front of.

Instead, the back of his head bounces off the window, momentarily stunning him. I quickly take advantage, grabbing the gun and tossing it towards the hallway. It lands near the still-closed bathroom door. Now, we're both unarmed. An equal playing field. _At last._

But, now, it's his turn to surprise me. Gone is the anger from before. Deflated. Drained away. Instead, there are hot tears in his eyes.

I quickly drop back to a safer distance as he starts to speak. Haltingly at first, but words begin tumbling out of his mouth at a rather alarming rate. "Why?! Why did you have to ruin everything?! Why'd you have to kill him? He was the good brother, the law-abiding one. _I_ was the screw-up! I was the one that made him rob that store with me. It was my idea alone. My old partner had bailed on me. And I needed a new one. _Fast._ He just went along with it, only because I practically forced him to."

He looks at me, really looks at me, waiting. Expectant. Actually giving me a chance to respond.

This is the first time since Sergeant Grey, since Captain Anderson, that I can talk about this. Only more freely.

"Your brother. He was a good guy, you say. And I believe you. I didn't know him. I'd never seen him before that day. But, he knocked over a convenience store for money, with you. Right in front of me and my T.O. You're still alive and are attesting to that fact. So, I figured he'd just run away like you tried to do. Ditching the gun along the way. And my partner and I...We spilt up. I was the one chasing your brother. Somehow, he got into a house with a young son and daughter and their dad, all probably just getting home from school. He took the father captive, threatened to kill him, then sent him flying in my direction. I thought I could reason with him. Your brother. I thought I could talk him down. But, he still had his gun out, and I had mine. I know you won't believe me, but killing him was the absolutely _last_ thing on my mind. Incapacitate, maybe. But _never_ kill."

"You're right. I _don't_ believe you."

"Sometimes, I don't believe me either. But, you could come down to the precinct, see the footage, maybe you'd understand the stress we were both under. The context. I was only trying to protect people. People your brother had unnecessarily put into grave danger."

The man before me, Kyle Montgomery, swallows, finally realizing the enormity of what he'd almost done. "Am I under arrest again?" he asks breathlessly.

"No. You can leave anytime you want. But, my offer stands. You didn't do anything that can't be undone. Come to the precinct, any time that you're ready. I'll arrange it myself. Or I could ask my captain to do so. She shouldn't have a major issue with it. And if she does, _I'll_ deal with that."

"You'd do that for me? Even if it proves that you're the murdering son-of-a-bitch cop that I still think you are."

"Yes." It's immediate and honest. I have nothing to hide from this man, this man who'd just lost his younger brother. Nothing.

Kyle nods, accepting.

Slowly, he rises to his feet.

The uncomfortable weight of sudden utter exhaustion keeps me from doing likewise.

But, I needn't have bothered. He gives me a wide berth. On his way back to my home's entranceway. Retrieves the gun he'd lost...that I'd tossed...during our scuffle. Studies it for a minute. Considering.

For a second, I think he's really going to use it, despite our earlier agreement. But, he quickly pockets it, silently disappearing back out the way he'd come.

Distantly, I hear a car door slam. And an engine start up. And a sedan drive off.

I sit in silence for a few seconds, head bowed. Listless. Still trying to gather the strength to stand. But, my ribs and head really hurt. And I don't make a move yet. Convinced he'll turn around and come back to finish his wish for revenge.

Then, cutting through that dark fog, I hear Lucy's voice. Wafting in from the hallway. And getting inexorably closer. "Babe, who was that? A friend? I thought I heard gunshots and some weird banging noises and yelling. Were you watching an action film again?"

When I don't answer right away, she comes all the way into the room, sees me sitting on the ground and unable to move. Sees the blood dotting my temple. Sees the vivid bruise on my other temple. And the discarded baseball bat laying nearby.

"What in the _hell_ happened out here, John?"

"I had a visitor. Kyle Montgomery. He's gone now. Wasn't happy with me though. Might've messed me up a bit..."

Everything's suddenly spinning. And I find myself slowly collapsing fully to the floor again, dizzy and nauseous and cold.

Lucy's worried face expands and contorts into one with funhouse dimensions, as she practically skids across the floor to my side.

My ribs, head, and side all ache. Fiercely.

I close my eyes, willing the dizziness to subside and for Lucy to stop looking so weirdly shaped. And then, I promptly lose some time.

When next I'm fully aware, a fully clothed Lucy is again bending over me. She's back on her knees, tears in her eyes, worry etched deeply on her face, fighting a losing battle to not outright cry.

"...John, c'mon, stay with me. Stay awake for me. I've called a bus. The medics should get here soon. You've lost a lot of blood. I think you might also have a concussion. _Dammit!_ You need to stay awake..."

Wherein before the pain was sharp, now it's muted. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing though. My policemans' handbook might've said something about that...

I shake my head slightly, trying to dust the cobwebs from my brain. But, another wave of migraine answers my motion instead, and my eyes droop closed once more. More time is lost.

When next I am aware, there's a shaking sensation, only, this time, it's coming from the environment around me, _not_ my own body.

I blearily open my eyes and shift slightly. That garners the attention of the unfamiliar person partially bent over me. Taking vitals, it looks like.

"Glad you could join us, Officer Nolan," the man says with a gentle smile. "I hear you've had quite the day."

"Who's _us_? Where are _we_?" My words are slurring together, but I think the guy can still understand what I'm saying.

I try to lift my head, my shoulders, trying to really suss out what's going on, trying to sit up, when he doesn't answer me right away. But, I feel lightheaded and get easily pushed back down onto the cot I'd been laying on, by the hands of the man from before.

"Whoa there, John! I don't think that's such a good idea right now. Just lie still. We've got ya."

"Who's _we_?" I mutter again, irritatingly exhausted from my little exertion.

"Me and your lovely lady friend here, John." The man motions across my blanketed chest to the other side of the gently jostling cot.

It's then I realize that Lucy is on my other side, eyes as wide as saucers, her hand clasping my fingers reflexively. That she'd come with me. That she's frightened. That _I'd_ frightened her.

"Luce... _Lucy_ , I'm fine. See? I'm right here."

"But, I couldn't wake you up. I thought I'd lost you again, John. _Dammit._ "

I carefully slip my hand out of her grip, reaching up to cradle her cheek with it. It's the most intimate physical contact that we can share in such a small space. An ambulance I finally, belatedly surmise. But, the gesture's still enough to garner a watery smile from her.

"You could never lose me," I tell her.

We hold each other's gaze for a moment.

And then that moment is gone, when the medic, whose identification badge reads 'Patrick', verbally breaks in with "We're almost there."

" _Hospital?_ " I ask.

Patrick nods. "Cedars-Sinai. They'll take good care of you there."

I nod, closing my eyes.

"John?" Patrick has a slight edge to his voice. Like he's losing me again. But, he's not.

"Yep. Still here. My eyes are just tired."

"Okay. Good. Just making sure. We're pulling up now though. So, there's gonna be some loud noises when we transfer you into the building. They might temporarily aggravate your headache and vertigo. Do you want some earplugs to help with that?"

"That'd be... _awesome_ ," I slur.

"Okay. Here ya go. I'm putting them in now. Don't worry. I won't go in too deep."

There's an odd pressure in my right ear, then my left. The earplugs are soft and squishy, and they tickle a bit, but, once they're in, I can barely hear anything at all.

I'm fairly sure that I give Lucy and Patrick a goofy thumbs-up. Because, in the next minute, I sense that we're all on the move. First, there's a distant bang, then the brief sensation that I'm falling, only I know I'm not. Then, there's suddenly a lot more talking and motion all around me. I sense it, but I'm not hearing what anyone is saying.

I open my eyes finally seemingly only a few minutes later, and realize that someone is now talking directly _to me_.

A nurse with long gray hair and tortoise shell eyeglasses is before me. And she looks like she's trying to assess me.

We're in a makeshift room off to one side of the main hospital corridor. A curtained-off area of the emergency room then. Patrick is gone though. As is Lucy. And it's just us.

If I have to talk to this women, I'm gonna need to be able to hear her. Carefully, I pluck the plugs from ears, and ball them up in my right hand. "Sorry, ma'am. Couldn't hear you before. What were you asking?"

The woman sighs, but dutifully asks again. "I'm Frankie. Short for Francesca. Your friend says this was a home invasion. So, were you hurt anywhere else other than the deep lacerations on your scalp and side, and the bruising on your temple?"

I hurriedly look down at myself. I'm still fully dressed in my ruined hoodie and bloodstained sweatpants. "I think I got hit in the solar plexus with the brunt end of a baseball bat. Wooden, not aluminum."

"Looks like you're gonna need a chest X-Ray and CT scan then. Having any trouble breathing?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm okay. I think they're just bruised."

The nurse isn't so easily convinced. "Mind if I have a look?"

"No. Go ahead."

Coming forward, she gently unzips my hoodie and tugs the shirt underneath it upwards, towards my shoulders, to reveal my newly multicolored ribcage.

Reds and yellows, blues and blacks, all meld together, creating an ugly mosaic that spotlights the aftermath of a moment of intense emotion and violence. I wince at the grand reveal.

"This is probably going to hurt," she says, just before she presses down, testing each rib's give. To make sure there are no obvious breaks. The resulting discomfort is hard to ignore.

She finishes, suitably satisfied, only a minute later. "You might have a hairline fracture, but you were right. No obvious breaks."

I nod, relieved this round of torture is over.

"It'll be a few minutes before we can get you on over to CT though. You want me to go get your friend? She can sit with you awhile if you'd like."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks."

The nurse finally leaves, and I'm left quietly panting at the renewed pain her medically-needed probing had caused. Almost patiently awaiting Lucy's welcome return.

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 _ **To be Continued...**_

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 **A/N: Okay, so this is my first ever written fic for The Rookie. How'd I do? I saw "Time of Death" and was immediately galvanized to write a continuation of that episode. I probably won't get it all up by the time the next actual episode, "The Standoff," arrives in January 2019. But, I guess my 3-part story, if it's actually any good, can tie you over for a bit until the 8th arrives. Here's to finding inspiration in** _ **strange**_ **places! ;c )**


	2. Downtime

**Title:** _Back To Basics_ (2/4)

 **This Part's Title:** _Downtime_

 **Author:** Snow'sLuckyCat aka Sharma aka ME

 **Author's Note:** Sorry for the lengthy delay. :( Hopefully, this part and the successive parts, that are soon to join this one, will all be worth the wait, at any rate. :) See Part 1 for the complete header _and_ disclaimer.

 **Special Thanks:** To all 7 (so far, anyway) of my wonderful reviewers, Weimlady, MC1367, Guest, Esme, snowqueen05, Pegship, & bponder, I thank ya, each and every one, from the bottom of my heart and soul for your encouraging and kind words about this humble 'yarn' of mine. YOU ALL ROCK! 8c )

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 **Part Two:**

 **Downtime**

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Seventeen stitches and seventy-two hours of observation and countles cups of horrid hospital coffee for Lucy (and equally horrid lime jello cups for me) later, we finally reluctantly return to my... _our_... _my_ home.

Surprisingly, the small puddles of blood that should still be there, are gone. In fact, it looks like someone's replaced the carpet entirely. The blood that had spattered the wall behind me on that fateful night has also been scrubbed away. The bullet holes? Plugged up expertly with spackling paste. Smoothed over, even.

Another invasion of my privacy, I can ill afford, especially in light of recent events. It's like someone simply erased my trial by fire from existence.

But, yet, I'm still standing here, aching and weary from dealing with the physical consequences of what had gone down.

The doctors had all said I should make a full recovery, but that it would take time. Dizzy spells are still frequent; migraines still sweep over me, like breaking waves of the nearby ocean. My side still burns too, but it's healing. The scalp lac is seri-stripped closed and bandaged up, with strict instructions for me to keep it dry, at least for another couple of days.

My chest is still a mess of different shades of black and blue. But, at least, I can no longer easily see it, since my whole torso's still hidden under a bunch of icy support bandages. Icy, to bring down the swelling.

At least, the bruise from the bat to my forehead have faded to a dusky pink and green and yellow, instead of the deep red and purple it'd been before. Small wonder.

Even though I am still suspended, and still with the continuing investigation hanging over my head, I really don't want to be alone just yet.

"Lucy, do you mind..." I mutely say into the air, willing her to read my mind and stay, without me having to ask her with words.

She doesn't let me finish. "My shift starts in an hour. I gotta go home and change. Bradford was not exactly happy when I told him why I couldn't come in, what had happened to you, and that I was staying with you at the hospital while you recovered. Anderson understood, as did Grey and Bishop, but they were about the only ones. I gotta get back to the grind..."

"Let me come with you?" I phrase it as more of a question than a command. I hope she takes the subtle hint I'm lobbing her way. But, my subtle hint goes similarly unheralded.

"Are you sure you should?" she instead asks me back. "After all, you'd only be sitting around twiddling your thumbs for six hours."

"Well, if Kyle shows back up at the precinct, I want to be there. I _did_ give him another chance, remember? A chance to see exactly what I saw and form his own conclusions. With all of the evidence in front of him." A reasonable plan in my mind, if tenuous since it's reliant upon a guy who tried to kill me just over three days ago.

Lucy disagrees, worry coloring her tone. "No. You need to _stay_. Rest some more. You look like you need it. We can totally handle Kyle, and that's if he even takes you up on your _very possibly illegal_ offer."

"Oh. Okay. It's just that I don't...I don't really want to be...alone, right now." I try to keep the tremor, a trace of irrational fear, I know, from my voice.

Lucy cocks her head to one side. Considering. Thinks better of it. Her face flashes through emotions like a camera shutter. I can see quick flashes of everything. But, finally, she settles on one mode. Tough love, it is then. "Listen. They already know you're hurt. That you're not coming in. That you're staying away until the investigation is completed. I'll only be gone a few hours. I got the locks changed and reinforced, so another home invasion shouldn't happen. Besides you, Ben and I are the only ones who have a key that works now."

"Was all of this _you_ then?" I mutely ask, gesturing to the new carpets and cleaned walls, hoping that it wasn't complete strangers going through my things, rifling through and cataloguing my most recent trauma. Trying to also prolong her exit for as long as possible.

"No, that part of it was Bishop and Grey's doing. They processed the scene and then they fixed it up for you. They said what you did both shockingly heroic and supremely stupid. Said you were about the only one who could do something that's simultaneously annoying and inspiring. Said it must be a Nolan family gift."

"No, I wouldn't say what I did was especially heroic. I just didn't want to get my ass handed to me any more than it already had been. Nor is it a family tradition. My son is an academic who's never thrown a punch in his life. Except in jest. And he's _always_ an inspiration, _never_ an annoyance."

"Well, in that case, I'd love to actually meet him face-to-face one day."

"In light of what's happened, I don't know if he's gonna be that inclined to visit me out here. Or visit me at all, really. I always taught him killing wasn't the answer, that it never solves anything. And up until now, I've been a living example of that credo. Now, in light of what Montgomery told the press, he probably thinks I'm a monster. An unjust killer cop. And that's if he heard anything at all..." I trail off, not realizing I'm getting more upset as I go along. Not angry really, just properly resigned to my fate and ready to throw in the towel.

Lucy smiles cryptically at me once I'm silent. A lovely, sly half-grin of an expression, one that perfectly mirrors the look _I_ normally aim _her_ way. "I have an idea about all that, babe. Instead of worrying about that asshole who almost killed you or wondering about what Henry is thinking, why don't you just call him? Get the conversation going? I bet it will do you both wonders."

"How are you so _sure_ that he'd talk to me, that he'd even take my call?"

"Because I know, from what you've told me of him, that he's just as sweet and considerate as you are. And I'm sure he understands a lot more than you give him credit for. Plus, it'll keep you calm _and_ busy, while I'm away."

" _Ah_ , I _knew_ there was an ulterior motive. You just want to be rid of me, Officer Chen," I joke. Hoping that there's not really any truth to that offhanded comment.

"Just until my shift ends. Then, I'm all yours again," she explains quickly, her half-grin growing to a full one that actually reaches her eyes. " _Talk_ to Henry. Take a few more _naps_. I'll _be back_ before you know it."

Turning away, she goes off into the bedroom, to gather up her gym bag and dirty clothes. But, she quickly returns.

"Forget something?" I ask, imagining it's something she's left out here in the den.

Her answering blaze of a kiss sears itself into my brain. Smothers my doubts and insecurities into smears of mere nothingness. It's over before I can even lace my fingers through her hair. Or lean into this sublime feeling of momentary happiness.

 _She still loves me_ , my mind shouts to the rooftops. If only she can hear it.

She lowers herself down from her tip-toes, steps back, satisfied.

"I love you, you know."

She answers me with the simple quirk of another smile at me. Playfully twirls away back to the bedroom.

Wistfully, I bet that she was a dancer in another life. _A less violent life._

Within three minutes, she's back again. Only, this time, she has her gym bag and purse with her. This time, she's leaving for real.

"Okay. I'm heading out. Remember what I said. Call Henry, then get some rest."

As I'm about to open my mouth to protest, tell her I'm fine without doing _either_ of _those_ things, that I'm fine just spending the next 6 hours staring off into the middle distance, she just frowns. "Nuh-uh. That's an order, mister. When I get back, if you're not in bed resting or on a Skype call to Henry, I'm calling in the cavalry."

"Yes, ma'am," I nod, slightly bobbing my head for emphasis, and get a mighty big twinge of discomfort for my trouble.

" _...Who'd be the cavalry though?_ " I ask, wincing as my voice easily slides an octave higher and becomes reedy, because of the odd sloshing sensation currently going around within my skull.

Lucy picks up on it immediately. "No sudden movements. Remember?"

"Got it. Adding 'nodding' to my Do Not Do list, as we speak," I reply, keeping as still as possible, once my brain steadies. "That was, in fact, one of the _least_ fun nods of my life. For a second there, I felt like my brain was gonna slosh right on out of my ears."

When I blink, everything tilts a bit. But only a bit. Plus, Lucy's right there, an arm wrapped around my waist, steadying me. Keeping me upright. Only to lead me into the bedroom just a few feet away and off to the right.

"Sit down," she states, once we've made it to the bed. " _Slowly._ "

Carefully, I do as she requests.

"Lay down," she says. " _Slowly._ "

Again, I try to obey.

"Okay. Good. Now, here's the remote. You can watch television, but leave it on a low volume. Not the loud cacophony of noise pollution that you usually use. A _sensible_ level. If you drift off to sleep? All the better. But, even if you can't, try to stay down for at least another 30-45 minutes. If you feel a little better by then, skype Henry. Even if it's only for a few minutes. Girlfriend's orders. Got me?"

"So, we _are_ going steady again?"

"We'll see. Let's just take it one day at a time. And let's keep it secret. Like _super_ secret. 'Cuz, right now, I'm just helping a fellow officer through a crisis. We're not quite back to _badge bunny_ levels yet."

"Understood." I carefully salute from my comfy pile of pillows, and she's off again, expertly taking her temporary leave of me like a pro.

I strain to hear the door open before her and close and lock behind her. But, it's barely perceptible. I blame my concussion. Luce would too.

Or maybe the real fact is that she's secretly a ninja. So, that reasoning can share the blame, I think.

I idly flip through the channels, only to settle on an old rerun of _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ that's just starting.

The white noise of the television sends me packing to slumberland quicker than usual, even before I get to the good part with Indy escaping the giant boulder trap in that Peruvian temple.

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 _ **To Be Continued...**_

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 **A/N: So much for a semi-short 3-parter, eh?! Instead you all are getting a longer 4-parter. Think of this chapter as being the relative quiet before the storm. And things are gonna get rather stormy and explosive really quickly. In more ways than one. So, watch this space and please stay tuned, 'cuz another** _ **two**_ **parts are coming your way** _ **very**_ **soon. :) Still, I hope you still like what you see... ;) Do you? :s**


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